


More Delightful Than Wine

by appalachian_fireflies



Category: Captain America (Movies), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cisgender male character, Comfort Sex, Dom/sub, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marijuana, Porn, Sub Clint Barton, Sub Steve Rogers, Sub/Sub, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-23 01:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7460862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appalachian_fireflies/pseuds/appalachian_fireflies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint shuffles forward, appreciates the contrast of the large tips of his toes with the ant maze of cars rushing about below.  He wonders how far out he can go before he loses his balance.  One way to find out.  </p><p>“Hawkeye!” a voice snaps from the shadows, and Clint leans back on instinct, looks down.</p><p>"Cap?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Delightful Than Wine

The view from Stark Tower is impressive. Even Clint, who appreciates very little when it comes to the finer things in life-

_Phil tried to drag him to restaurants for months before he realized it was more of a punishment than a reward. Now they go once a year on Phil’s birthday. They _went_ once a year on Phil’s birthday. ___

__Clint shuffles forward, appreciates the contrast of the large tips of his toes with the ant maze of cars rushing about below. Yeah, even a low-class heavy like him can appreciate a view like this._ _

__He always liked heights. The air rushing past him, the thump of adrenaline singing. He never felt more alive than when he was falling. Swinging past on a rope catching at the last minute, winking at Phil on the cams where he knows his face has gone grey, laughs when Phil puts everyone else on mute and cusses him out over the comms._ _

_Loki was annoyed when Clint screamed, shouted, fought not to obey. Annoyance. A little push. His hands pushing the gleaming metal tip into Phil’s heart._

__Clint wonders how far out he can move before he loses his balance. One way to find out._ _

__“Hawkeye!” a voice snaps from the shadows, and Clint leans back on instinct, looks down._ _

_Threat, threat, threat._

“Cap?” he calls out, “what-“ the smell hits him, and Jesus, how could he not have noticed it before? “What _are_ you doing?” He walks down the little stairs that link one level to the next, finds Cap’s hiding spot. 

__"What do you think?” Cap asks wryly, rolling another joint._ _

__“Wow,” Clint laughs, because what the hell. Life's funny like that. “Can I have one?”_ _

__Cap soundlessly lights the joint and passes it over, starts rolling his own. “Careful, it’s strong.”_ _

__Holy shit, he is not kidding. Clint coughs a little. “What brings you to my rooftop?”_ _

__“This was my rooftop, Barton,” Cap counters. “You don’t even live here.” He’s smiling, pats the spot next to him. “Pull up some roof.”_ _

__Clint plops his ass down. He’s instinctively comfortable being in his space, like… well, who wouldn’t want to be around Cap? “What brings Captain America to a rooftop at 2am with a mountain of weed?” He takes another hit. It’s good that he’s used to this, with Phil- It’s good he’s used to this or he’d be seeing life size rubber ducks dancing right now. Or something worse. “Only good things, I assume.”_ _

__Cap snorts while he’s sucking on his joint, coughs. “Ow,” he pouts. He taps the ash. “It’s an experiment. I can’t get drunk, so I figured I’d see if I could get high. They used to put this in asthma cigarettes in the 30’s, you know. Always did make me feel better.”_ _

__“I did not know,” Clint shakes his head. Learn something new every day. "Wait, but I’ve seen you drink. Last night-“_ _

__Steve shakes his head. “Social. Less awkward.”_ _

__“Jesus," Clint comments, “that’s sad."_ _

__“ Thanks," Steve snorts. They’re both quiet for a few long minutes._ _

__“It working?" Clint asks._ _

__“I think so,” Steve says brightly. He squints into the distance. “Nah, pretty sure I’m just trying to feel it." He takes another long drag._ _

__"Dude," Clint starts laughing hysterically, “this is the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever seen."_ _

__“My specialty,” Steve gives him a little nod, then chuckles._ _

__“Hoo boy. You want to talk about that?"_ _

__Steve shakes his head. “I laughed. Natasha says if I laugh we don’t engage, ‘s the rule.”_ _

__“Fair enough," Clint nods. “Why don’t you try doing a bunch of them, like, really fast?" He bunches up some more in his fingers and grabs a little paper._ _

__“Okay,” Steve perks up._ _

__*_ _

"The stars’re like, like this _vortex_ ,” Steve waves his hand in the air. He sucks in another hit. 

__“No vortexes,” Clint says quickly._ _

__Steve’s eyes go comically wide. “Sorry,” he says in a stage whisper._ _

__“No prob,” Clint says, and Cap takes another hit. It’s out of the bag now, though, and as Steve stares quietly at the stars Clint can’t stop thinking about it. He puts his own joint to his lips._ _

__There aren’t any crickets or cicadas up here, even though it’s summer. He’s lived in the city for years now, and it’s still weird. It’s pretty quiet, though._ _

“Coulson and I were together,” Clint says, because he can’t let this quiet stay between them any longer, has to distract himself from thinking. 

_It takes a lot of force to push the blade through the ribcage, into the heart. He doesn’t usually kill like that. Personal, intimate._

__Steve is staring at him, quiet. Clint can’t get a read on him._ _

__“I was always afraid you’d say something stupid, break his heart. He looked up to you, you know? It’d kill him to have his hero tell him he was some sinner needed to get right with God.”_ _

__Steve shakes his head. “I wouldn’t have told him that,” he says softly._ _

__Clint can’t stand it. He can’t stand how good Steve is, how right Phil was to look up to him all those years. He was always an optimist. That’s not how the world works for Clint. It never just rains, it always fucking pours._ _

__“It was kinky,” Clint says casually, trying to challenge him, get a rise out of him, anything. “Like, collars and shit.”_ _

__Steve nods very slowly._ _

__“That’s it?” Clint says, and he wants to hit him. It isn’t fair, it isn’t right, but Clint’s too fucking tired to care._ _

__“Bucky was like that,” Steve says very, very softly. Clint would’ve missed it if he couldn’t read lips so well._ _

__Steve sniffs, going for another joint, and if he’s saying what Clint thinks he is, he feels like a grade A asshole. “How long’s it been, for you?”_ _

__“Few months,” Steve says, blinking. “Was how I found out I couldn’t get drunk. Went to the bombed out bar we’d been at, drank it. Few weeks later, woke up here.”_ _

_Drank it_ , Clint thinks. He bets he did. 

__“I know it’s supposed to be ok now, mostly. But it’s hard, you know?” Steve looks over at him, trying to connect, find someone who understands._ _

_Jesus._ “Yeah,” he says softly. “It’s hard.” 

__Steve nods. “Bucky was the only person who ever knew me. And I don’t even know how to talk about him. If I can.”_ _

__“I,” Clint lays down next to him, overwhelmed. “Buddy, I have no fuckin’ clue.”_ _

__Steve turns to him. “I’m sorry,” he says, blue eyes wide and honest and kind._ _

__Clint kisses him. He doesn’t know if he’s kissing him to shut him up, or because fucking has always been his coping mechanism when his head gets too loud and his body starts to feel heavy, but he doesn’t stop. Steve’s lips are soft and he kisses so gently, so sweet and tentative, and he’s nothing like Phil at all._ _

__Clint keeps kissing him, feels Steve go pliant with a little sigh, like he’s been waiting for this. Clint doesn’t know how he didn’t see it in him before, except maybe Steve’s private like him, doesn’t show it except to certain people. Or when he’s desperate, and dropping, and clutches to the first life raft that passes by._ _

__That’s ok. Clint can work with that._ _

__“Come on, pretty boy,” Clint says roughly, “your place or mine? This roof is making my knees hurt.”_ _

__Steve laughs, and it’s light, happy, nothing like Clint’s ever heard from him before. He stands up, and he’s fucking huge. Clint pokes at him a little, frowning._ _

__“Why are you so big.”_ _

__“Science,” Steve replies solemnly. “You need to stand up.”_ _

__Right. Uuuugh._ _

__Clint complains about the stairs, then the elevator, then doors. Steve is practically sober._ _

__“Come here,” Clint pouts when Steve finally closes the door. They kiss against it for a while, rubbing and giggling and touching each other under their clothes like teenagers till they finally make it to the bed._ _

__Clint takes his shirt off, but Steve’s shy._ _

__Clint tugs at the hem. “Why.”_ _

__“’M too big,” Steve says, flushing._ _

__“Pfft,” Clint says, tugging it off, and gives Steve a shove onto the bed. “Nice,” he says, straddling his stomach so he can properly cup his pecs._ _

__Steve laughs, flushed, then lets out a high, shocked moan when Clint leans down to suck at one of his nipples._ _

__Clint thinks that means it’s a great time to get rid of his pants. Then he remembers. Whoops._ _

__“I’m trans,” he says. “That- did you get the ‘Welcome to the 21st Century’ training on that, or whatever?”_ _

__Steve sighs. “Venus in Furs was published in 1870,” he says._ _

__“What,” Clint tries to push his brain, but it very firmly says nope._ _

__“You acted like you were going to shock me talking about kink, now you’re acting like the 21st century invented different genders,” Steve frowns._ _

__“Did you get the training, though?” Clint pushes. “Like-“_ _

__“Yes, I got the training,” Steve huffs. “I’m bisexual. I’m,” Steve really does flush all the way down. “I’m not very experienced, though. With, um. Parts.”_ _

__“Parts,” Clint repeats, smiling. He flicks one of Steve’s perfect nipples._ _

__“I don’t want to offend you!” Steve protests._ _

__“So, did you sleep with Peggy Carter?” Clint asks, curious._ _

__“I,” Steve gives up. “No.”_ _

__“You wanted to,” Clint clarifies._ _

__“I wanted to marry her,” Steve counters. “It’s complicated. But, yes.”_ _

__Clint shuffles out of his pants, makes himself more naked. Steve watches._ _

__“Fine, I’ll do all the work,” Clint says, and pops the button on Steve’s pants, shoves his boxers down. “Wow,” he says, staring._ _

__“It’s not that much different than average,” Steve defends, self-conscious, and wiggles out of his pants._ _

__“Compared to what, PornHub? Buddy, I have fucked a lot of penises in my life, and that is the biggest dick I have ever seen.”_ _

__“You’re the biggest dick I’ve ever seen,” Steve counters, actually looking a little sullen._ _

__Clint can’t help himself. He starts laughing. Steve frowns._ _

__“Baby,” he says, still laughing, “come here, c’mon,” he can’t fucking stop._ _

__Steve finally shakes his head, starts laughing back. “Yeah, yeah, shut up.” He pulls Clint back in and kisses him, the same soft kisses, trying to get Clint to lead. He nips Clint’s lip and pulls back, pushing Clint to chase him._ _

__“What do you like?” Clint asks, low._ _

__“Um, mouths,” Steve says self-consciously for all that he tongue fucks like a pro._ _

“Receiving or giving?” Clint prompts, and has pity for a moment on Phil. _Don’t think, don’t think._

__“Both,” Steve replies, shivering a little when Clint runs his fingers over the nape of his neck._ _

__“Hmm,” Clint thinks for a minute, lets his hand run a little lower, smiles when Steve spreads his legs on instinct. “I don’t think I could give you a very good blow job,” he admits. “Why don’t I eat you out instead?”_ _

__“Yeah, ok,” Steve says, clearly trying for casual and completely failing._ _

__Steve even angles his hips a little when Clint pushes his knees apart. He grabs his ass just to feet it, gives it a slap for fun. “Were you always this greedy?”_ _

__“Yep,” Steve confirms, rubbing his dick against the bed a little. Clint plays with his balls for a minute, runs his finger along Steve’s perineum and smiles when Steve buries his face in his pillow and groans. “Not nice,” Steve complains._ _

__“You want me to be nice?” Clint teases. “Why don’t you try being polite first?”_ _

__“Could you please put your tongue in my ass?” Steve says snippily, and Clint laughs, swats him. Then he does as ordered._ _

__Steve’s beautiful when he’s getting eaten out, hitched breaths and squirming, deep moans and surprised squeaks when Clint changes pressure, presses his knuckles into his perineum._ _

__Then Steve gives one loud, sharp gasp and tenses up, twitching under Clint’s tongue. Clint rides it out, then pulls back._ _

__“Did you just come?” he asks, because he can’t quite believe it._ _

__Steve flushes redder than Clint’s ever seen him. “Yeah, sorry.”_ _

__Clint hauls him up into a kiss, and Steve goes. “That was,” he kisses him again, “the hottest fucking thing,” Steve moans, and Clint leans back. “I can’t believe you just came from my tongue in your ass.”_ _

__Clint looks down, tilts his head. Ok. “Uh. Thought you said you just came.”_ _

__Steve shrugs, strokes his dick. “Serum. Usually takes a couple times.”_ _

__Hallelujah. This was such a good idea. “Can you fuck me with that?” he asks, staring again._ _

__“That?” Steve asks, brow scrunching._ _

__“What, you don’t have a name for it? Him? Her?” Steve swats his ear. “Really,” Clint continues,” I can’t believe you don’t have a name for a dick like that.”_ _

__“You’re making me feel like a monster,” Steve complains._ _

__“Noo,” Clint nuzzles into his neck, “I’m admiring. We can call her Princess if you want.”_ _

__Steve nuzzles back into Clint’s nose, which is frankly adorable. Phil always said he should try sleeping with another sub-_ _

__Clint wraps his hand around Steve’s dick, shuffles forward into his lap when Steve huffs out a sigh. “I think she’s interested.”_ _

__“I don’t want to hurt you,” Steve says, serious, so Clint makes sure not to laugh._ _

__“Why don’t you let me drive?” Clint asks, and pushes back on Steve’s shoulders. Steve lets himself fall, looks up at Clint in confusion._ _

__Clint leans over to root around in Steve’s nightstand, feels his heart clench when he finds a pair of dog tags carefully tucked into the corner. Thankfully, there’s also a lonely bottle of lube that rolls forward. God bless predictability._ _

__Clint takes it out and works Steve’s dick in his hand, smiling when Steve’s jaw literally drops in realization._ _

__“I d-don’t have any condoms,” Steve manages._ _

__“I’ve got an IUD. Birth control. You worried about STD’s?”_ _

__Steve shakes his head. “Can’t get ‘em. Used to have herpes. Don’t anymore.”_ _

__Clint lets out a soft whistle. “God Bless America,” he says, and gently lines himself up with the head of Steve’s dick._ _

__Steve’s clearly trying very hard to hold himself still, fingers clenching Clint’s thighs. Clint presses the head inside himself and groans, waits there panting a little._ _

__“Am I hurting you?” Steve frowns._ _

__“Yeah,” Clint complains. It’s perfect. He literally can’t think about anything but Steve’s dick inside him. Steve tries to pull out, so Clint works himself down even further. Steve chokes, thrusts reflexively._ _

__“You doin’ ok down there?” Clint teases, checking in._ _

__Steve’s eyes are closed, and he moans, nodding. “Clint,” he breathes, and Clint sinks down as far as he can go, lets his body adjust for a minute._ _

__“Ok, your turn to do the work,” Clint announces. “I am way too stoned still to ride your dick.” Clint tries to pull Steve over, and Steve goes gently, balancing his weight over Clint on his forearms. Steve kisses him, because of course he does._ _

__Steve fucks him slowly and gently, clearly savoring the experience, looks into his eyes more than any other fuck except Phil has. Clint jerks himself off, because he’s never been good at waiting. Steve goes wide eyed when he feels Clint coming, hips stuttering to a halt._ _

__“Deeper,” Clint says roughly, “c’mon, please-“ Steve presses in as deep as he can go, and he’s so fucking big, Clint can feel where he’s aching from the stretch, all the way down to the pressure at his cervix. It’s overwhelming, and it’s even better when Steve fucks Clint through his orgasm like he can’t help himself. It’s just the right amount of pain when Steve keeps fucking him and comes deep inside him, kissing Clint so eagerly Clint starts to cry._ _

__Steve is so damn sincere. He’s too fucking nice. This was just supposed to distract him, but Steve kisses so gently and honestly, and Clint can’t stop crying. He hadn’t believed in sex like this before Phil. He can’t stop seeing his face in Steve’s, patient and loving. It’s worse, somehow, than remembering shoving a knife through his chest._ _

__“He’s dead,” Clint hiccups, “he’s dead, I killed him.”_ _

__“It’s not your fault,” Steve says, tugging him closer, rocks him there a little. “I’m so sorry. It’s not your fault.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the song of solomon 1:2, in keeping with the theme of the series. Happy speed writing Monday!


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